Page 1 of Frat Around and Find Out (Peach State Fratbros #1)

Lance

“L ance, you gotta get dressed! Hurry!”

“Dude, weren’t you supposed to be back here already?”

“We’re heading out soon. Come on. Chop, chop.”

As I rush through the Alpha Theta Mu house, I keep having to tell the guys, “I’m moving as fast as I can,” while my fellow frats give me hell about how behind I am.

The past few years, I’ve never had an issue holding down a job, attending classes, standing as the fraternity’s president, and making it to the all-important TaskFrat challenges to remind all the rival frats who’s the baddest frat at Peach State.

Unfortunately, for whatever reason, Peachtree Springs decided to start construction on the highway today, which had me backed up for thirty minutes on my way here from having lunch with my parents, and I’ve been freaking out, since I don’t want to let my team down on the first challenge of the season.

I scramble into my room, hurrying to get into my TaskFrat Challenge outfit, as per the email we received earlier in the week, which lists the guidelines and dress code for the event.

As I slip on the G-string, noticing just how revealing it is, I’m relieved we’re still enjoying the warmth of what’s been a lovely Georgia September.

I’m also feeling surprisingly confident about my body as I check myself out in my closet floor-length mirror.

Although, this outfit seems unusually skimpy for a challenge.

Not that we haven’t had to wear ridiculously revealing outfits in the past, but the most we’ve ever gotten down to is Speedos.

Still, it shouldn’t surprise me, since Beta Pi is in charge of today’s task, and they’re known for their sexy-themed parties.

And hey, guess everyone’s gonna get a good view of how fortunate this bulge is.

A knock at the door draws my attention away from my crotch, and maybe because I’m so used to the humiliating outfits TaskFrat puts me into, I don’t even think twice when I call out, “Come in!”

Ash Fuller, my best bud and fratbro, enters, wearing his G-string and his Alpha Theta Mu sleeveless crop top that matches the one I’m heading to my drawer to fetch.

“Someone was cutting it close,” Ash says, plopping down on the edge of my bed. “I was about to see if one of the sophomores would be willing to step up in your place.”

As I find my crop top, I say, “I’m shocked I’m willing to do this humiliating crap.”

“You know you love the attention. Who signs up for TaskFrat Challenge if they don’t?”

Fair point. The TaskFrat challenges are essentially a series of task-based games that Peach State frats made up to create a safe version of hazing for entertainment purposes, while posting pics and vids of the events on socials is like free advertisement for future pledges.

“And some of the noobs want their turn in the spotlight,” he adds.

“They’ll get their chance for the bigger games.” I toss off my shirt and swap out. “And what’s it gonna look like to the rushes if the president isn’t out there representing us?”

“Been president for three years, and you’re some kind of PR wiz all of a sudden.”

“You know it,” I joke, checking out my skimpy outfit in the mirror. My muscles are really bulging today. I flex my abs. “I make this look good.” I wait for Ash to confirm, but he’s quiet, stirring some insecurity. “I look good, right? You’re my bi bro. You’re supposed to boost my self-esteem.”

“Does my straight best friend need some confidence today?” Ash asks. “I have praised your body more than enough the past week. You’re looking like you put in some serious workouts now that we have our own fitness room.”

“You liking the gun show?” I flex my biceps, which I’ve given plenty of attention to as well.

Ash hops up from the bed and approaches. “Oh my! Such a big, strong, straight man. I’m so turned on right now. Is that what you needed?” He doesn’t even pretend to be enthusiastic—that’s Ash for ya.

“You be glad your boyfriend isn’t here to kick my ass for you drinking me in like that,” I tease.

“Oh yeah, he’d be real intimidated.”

Colin, his boyfriend—former Alpha Theta Mu alum, now at Emory Law—is swole with muscle, used to be a tight end for Peach State, so I definitely couldn’t compete with that. And really, our relationship isn’t like that at all. Still, gotta give my fratbro hell.

“Whatever,” I say. “If I were queer, you know you would have hit this.”

“Keep telling yourself that, man.”

“What is this talk about?” I hear from behind us as two of our Alpha Theta Mu friends, Marty and Payton, head in, Payton in his outfit, Marty wearing athletic shorts .

“Are you out of your mind?” Marty asks. “I come by and you’re talking about messing around behind your boyfriend’s back?”

“What?” Ash says. “I would never…”

Marty cringes. “What? Yeah, of course, I know you wouldn’t. I’m saying you shouldn’t be goofing around like that when we’re about to be late.”

The challenge doesn’t start for another hour, but for some events—like today—some guys from each frat need to show up early to help set up the venue.

“So come on,” Marty says. “You can talk when we get back about how Ash would never have fucked Lance even if he was the only available man on the planet.”

“Aw, douche,” I snap.

“Yes, I am clean and useful, thank you very much. Now, Payton, just grab one of them, and I’ll get the other. Let’s get them to the car. The guys put me in charge of getting you all to the venue on time.”

Of course the guys would choose Marty. He’s the goodie-goodie of Alpha Theta Mu.

But we’re not leaving yet.

“You’re not in your G-string.” I motion to his shorts.

“They’re obviously under these.”

It’s a well-established tradition that the skimpier the outfits, the more of a boss move it is to show up at the venue sporting them like it’s no big deal.

This is something my buddy Marty is aware of.

We’re not gonna be the guys changing out of shorts and jackets in the parking lot like a bunch of cowards. We’re fucking Alpha Theta Mu.

Marty drops trou and tosses his shorts at me. “Happy?”

“Much better,” I say, and then the four of us drive to the location .

The TaskFrat challenges are typically at one of the Peach State frat houses, but once in a while we’ll have a special occasion when it’s held at another venue.

For the debut game this year, we’re meeting at the local park a few blocks away.

When we arrive at the parking lot, the place is packed.

It’s a full-blown pre-TaskFrat tailgate.

“Kind of early for this,” Payton says, since people don’t usually start arriving during setup.

“You sure we got the time right?” Marty asks from the driver’s seat. Payton scrolls through his phone.

“We definitely got the time right,” Ash says.

I notice the guys from the other frats are wearing regular tees and board shorts.

They would never…

“You think we misread the dress code?” Marty asks.

“No,” I say curtly, since I know for a goddamn fact that I wouldn’t have misread that.

“What is going on?” Marty asks. “Why aren’t the other guys wearing this? You think they have them on under their shorts?”

“Nope,” I say.

“The fuck?” Payton says.

I already know exactly what’s going on.

And I suspect I know who’s to blame as I recall a comment my Sigma Alpha archnemesis offered at the last TaskFrat Challenge Committee meeting: “Wear something pretty for me at the next challenge, okay?”

“Ty Lancaster,” I say through my teeth.

“What?” Ash asks. “How would he have done this?”

“He’s buddies with Morgan Frax, Omega Psi’s guy who’s in charge of sending out the tasks. Ty must’ve talked him into doing it. ”

“I’m not getting out of the car,” Marty says as he parks.

“Oh, come on,” Payton says.

Marty points out the window. “They’ve got their phones out and looking this way. They’ve been told this is what’s gonna happen.”

Marty’s right. It seems everyone’s noticed our arrival, and they’re already chuckling, clearly anticipating the big reveal.

Heat stirs in my chest and flares in my cheeks. “I can’t believe that asshole duped us like this. And I fell right for it.”

Even worse, I’m jealous that it’s a damn good prank. When he’s good, he’s good.

“Hey,” Ash says. “This isn’t your fault. Someone had to prank us. And we got them last year.”

And we got them good too, thanks to the help of one of our guys’ beloved family pet hog, Jasper.

Jasper is like a people-person—a people-hog, I guess—but that’s hard to tell when all two hundred and fifty pounds of him are tearing toward you.

We let him loose in the Sigma Alpha house during Greek Week.

We’d already sprayed the guys’ costumes with lavender, which apparently Jasper adores.

So all the frats and sororities had to do was set up lawn chairs and enjoy the show as Sigma Alphas with ripped togas or in the buff hauled ass from their house like they were running from Michael Myers.

“And what we’re wearing is not that weird for a TaskFrat event,” Ash adds.

He’s right, but at least when we’ve worn Speedos, all the other frats were wearing the same.

“Do we have time to go back to the house?” Marty asks. “Or maybe I can get someone to bring us a change of clothes.”

“We’re barely on time as it is,” Payton says.

“They clearly don’t need us for setup,” Marty adds.

It’s true, but in the back of my mind, I hear a familiar voice, one that’s with me every day, here for me, encouraging me along.

“Sometimes you just gotta own it.”

“We have to own it,” I say, the way he would have.

“Huh?” Marty asks.

A powerful determination rises within me. “Everyone in this car, when we get out, we are strutting like we’ve never strutted before.”

“Fuck,” Marty groans, since of the four of us, he’s the most self-conscious.